The Keeper of the Door Part 120

"The Rajah calls Nick his brother," said Olga.

"Like his cheek!" said Noel. "Not that I can talk myself. I took the liberty of kicking him off his own premises once." He chuckled involuntarily at the recollection and commanded her to continue.

So Olga went on to tell of old Kobad's final coup and of how the Rajah, receiving news of some mischief afoot, had sent an urgent message of warning that had taken Nick straight to the Palace. Thence he had gone in disguise to the haunts of Kobad Shikan's conspirators, but here he had received a check. Kobad Shikan, fearing treachery among his followers, had taken elaborate precautions to conceal his proceedings, and for hours Nick had been kept searching vainly for a clue. Then at last he had succeeded in running the truth to earth, had discovered the whole ghastly plot barely half an hour before the time fixed for its consummation, and had raced to the mess-house with his warning.

"And that's all, is it?" said Noel.

"Yes, that's all; except that old Kobad has disappeared. Nick seems sorry, but everyone else is glad."

"And what about--Hunt-Goring?" said Noel at last.

Olga's fingers tightened in his hold. "Oh, did you know he was there?"

she said.

Briefly he made answer. "Yes, he tripped me. I believe he was half-drunk with opium or something. What happened? Was he killed?"

Noel's voice was imperious. She answered him instantly, seeing he demanded it.

"Yes."

Noel drew a deep breath. "Thank G.o.d for that!" he said. "Then you are free'"

Olga was silent.

"You are free?" he repeated, with quick interrogation.

Yet an instant longer she hesitated. Then she leaned her head against his pillow with a little sob. "No,--I'm not free, Noel. I--have given myself--to you!"

"Because I'm blind!" he said.

"No, dear, no! Once free--I should have come to you--in any case."

"Would you?" he said. "Would you? You're quite sure? You're not saying it out of pity? I won't have you marry me out of pity, Olga. I couldn't stand it."

"Oh, you needn't be afraid of that!" she said. Then a moment later, "When I marry you," she murmured softly, "it will be--for love."

There was no mistaking the sincerity of the words, though even then as it were in spite of himself he knew that the pa.s.sionate adoration he had poured out to her had awakened no answering rapture in her heart. The very fashion of her surrender told him this. He might come first with her indeed, but the full gift was no longer hers to offer.

"I wonder if you will be happy with me," he said, after a moment.

"It is my only chance of happiness," she made answer.

"How do you know?" There was curiosity in his voice: he made a movement of impatient impotence, putting a hand that trembled up to his bandaged head.

She took the hand, and drew it softly down. "I will tell you how I know," she said. "I know because when I thought you were killed I felt--I felt as if the world had stopped. And since then--since I knew that you would live--I have been able to think of only you--only you."

Her voice broke upon a sound of tears. "That awful fear for you opened my eyes," she whispered. "I haven't been able to think of Major Hunt-Goring's death or anything else at all. I've even deserted Nick."

Valiantly, through her tears, she smiled. "I never did such a thing as that before for anyone."

He clasped her hands tightly as he lay. "Don't cry, sweetheart!" he whispered. "You're not crying--for me?"

"I can't help it," she whispered back. "I can't bear to think of you suffering,--you, Noel, you!"

"Don't cry!" he said again, and this time there was a hint of grimness in his voice. "I shall win through--somehow--for your sweet sake.

Maloney told me I wasn't blind just now. That, I know, was a lie. Or at least he didn't believe it himself. Personally I feel as if my eyes have been blown clean out of my head. But--blind or otherwise--I'll stick to it, I'll stick to it, Olga. I'll make you happy, so help me, G.o.d!"

"My dearest!" she murmured. "My dearest!"

"And you're not to cry over me," he said despotically. "You're not to fret--ever. If you do, I--I shall be furious." He uttered a quivering laugh. "We'll play the game, dear, shall we, the big, big game of life?

It won't be easy, G.o.d knows; but He lightened my darkness--very first time of asking too. So perhaps He'll give us a tip now and then as to the moves."

He fell silent for a s.p.a.ce, and she wondered if he were growing drowsy.

Then as she sat motionless by his side, closely watching him, she saw the boyish lips part in their own sunny smile.

"Go and tell Mrs. Musgrave to hoist a flag!" he said. "Say it's the luckiest day of my life!"

The lips quivered a little over the words, but they continued bravely to smile.

And Olga understood. The boy had shouldered his burden with all his soldier's spirit, and nothing would daunt him now. He had begun to play the game.

She herself rose to the occasion with instant resolution, forcing back the tears he would not suffer, brave because he was brave.

"I shall tell her to hoist one for us both," she said, "and to keep it flying as long as we are under her roof."

CHAPTER XXV

MEMORIES THAT HURT

"Well, Max! You're just off then?" Sir Kersley Whitton looked up with a smile to greet his partner as he entered.

"Just off," said Max.

He came to Sir Kersley, seated at his writing-table, and paused beside him. It was a day in April, showery, shot with fleeting gleams of sunshine that sent long golden shafts across the doctor's room.

"You will bring the boy here then?" said Sir Kersley.

"Yes, straight here. It's very good of you, Kersley." Max's hand lay for a moment on the great man's shoulder.

"Nonsense, my dear fellow! I'm as keen as you are." Sir Kersley leaned back in his chair. "I only hope we may be successful," he said. "Is he likely to be a good patient?"

"Quite the reverse, I should say." Max sounded grim. "But I expect I can manage him."

Sir Kersley smiled again. "Just as you managed me a couple of years ago, eh? Yes, I should say you will be fully competent in that respect. You have a way with you, eh, Max? What was it this Indian doctor said?"

"He believed a cure possible, but only under the most favourable conditions. The boy was in no state then to undergo an operation, and he funked the job." Max's tone was contemptuous.